As usual, it's been a busy week around these parts, and none of my activities this week involved running. If my grandmother could hear at the moment and complete a sentence without hacking up a lung, she'd ask me what's wrong. I'd have to confess that my eczema has flared up in this oh-so-cold-there's-ice-on-my-car south Florida weather, and my skin is so itchy that I have bruises up and down my limbs from all the scratching I've been doing. There are some days I'm relieved to know men with calloused hands. (Before you take that last comment too seriously, remind yourself that I am writing this at 9:30 on a Friday night.) Anyway... I met up for coffee with someone last night who proved to stoke my creative juices. I'll spare you the details of the conversation, but I did have to stop him mid sentence to point out that that particular conversation will most definitely become part of "La Isla Encontrada." Fortunately, he agreed to it, and I fully...

I think I'm going to write tonight. Some new ideas have been swirling around my head, working their way into words. I've been carrying around my delightful red Moleskin notebook from the artist retreat weekend, sure that at some point the words will finally emerge. This might be their time. I think I've mentioned the book I've been working on: "La Isla Encontrada" (The Found Island). The theme is loss and how people deal with it told through a series of vignettes. I explained this to my father last night and he said it sounded a lot like The Canterbury Tales . It most definitely is. These people are all emotional pilgrims, searching for a sense of meaning in their worlds. What I like best about the concept is that each person's story is told through the lens of someone else. I'm intrigued by the idea of seeing loss in a life filtered through a third-party's eye. So far, I have completed half of the boat captain's story and have started the Cuba...